A Breaking of Disguises
by Dusked
Summary: "This was never over, Granger," he told her, and he reached up, fixing one of her curls in a pin; his touch lingered, feathering over her cheek before dropping at his side, eyes inexplicably gentle. "Before it was physically and publicly over, yes." He shook his head. "But not emotionally. Never emotionally." She longs for the man she cannot have. Short story. AU, EWE.
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

This is a short Dramione multi-chapter, will only be around 3-4 chapters long (I'm building up my courage to face novel-lengths, they seem much more daunting than I previously thought). But I do have longer fanfics in mind, which I hope to write very soon. But one step at a time, people.

Thank you to my wonderful Beta:_** RoseWeasley3.**_

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**DISCLAIMER: **The rights to _Harry Potter_ are in the ownership of J.K Rowling and Warner Bros. This fanfic has only been written for fun, and other readers/writers entertainment.

**RATING: **T/R+.

**WARNING(S): **Implied sex/sexual themes, and some strong language. (Previously rated M.)

**EXTRA NOTES: **This is total AU, EWE and is set as Post-Hogwarts. For the sake of the plot and the circumstances of this fanfic, some of the characters will not be completely in character – particularly their decisions wouldn't be what they'd usually decide. Also, the story may be fast paced, but I've tried my best.

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_**A BREAKING OF DISGUISES**_

_**By: Dusked**_

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.

**July, 2004**

This was a dream.

It _had _to be some sort of false imagery, a hallucination – anything would suffice compared to the current situation.

Ahead, Malfoy pierced with his hard, ice-splintered gaze. A simple trip to Diagon Alley had officially morphed into a nightmare that she realised she'd never be able to escape from, as his eyes darted between her troubled face and her swollen, four-month pregnant stomach. _Oh, God._

Within seconds, he was marching over, brow furrowed. She tried to walk away, find a place she could hide in, but as she turned, a hand clamped around her arm and hauled her into a nearby alley that was concealed by dark shadows.

Pressed against the wall, she felt hot, harsh breath ghost along her face, and he demanded in a hushed growl, "Well? Care to explain yourself?"

"Explain what?" she feigned ignorance, head cocked to the side. She made the move to leave, but his hand slapped against the stone, blocking her exit. _This is going to take a while. _"I have nothing to explain, Malfoy."

The last time she'd seen him was almost four months ago, and it seemed their time apart had changed him – not in a good way, though. As much as she hated to admit it, she felt bad for him because he looked... well, _awful. _Still undeniably gorgeous, but he looked like he'd had more than one sleepless night and had been slapped around a few times.

She'd remember his eyes anywhere, since she'd only lost herself in a few. Ron's had been bright and ocean-blue, glittering under the daylight. Her boyfriend's, Theo's, were a rich brown, almost hazel, and fused with a warmth that sent tingles along her skin. Malfoy's, however, held a whole different effect. They managed to keep her locked to the spot, and although they could look cold and unyielding, within them she saw a cloud of hot passion that lingered in the grey depths. And once the light hit them just so, they would frost over like ice, or melt like liquified metal.

But now, with a tired sag of his lids, they looked quite dead.

"You have _everything _to explain," he snarled softly, lip curling. She placed a hand protectively over her stomach; the move didn't go unnoticed, his eyes roaming down her body until they studied over her early pregnancy. "Is it mine?"

A scoff broke past her lips before she could stop it. "Work it out, Malfoy. I'm sure it isn't too difficult to figure out."

For a moment, his guards dropped and she caught the small flicker of emotion in his gaze – close to shock or realisation, as he stared at her belly. And he lifted his hand, as if to feel the life growing within her. But then he shook his head, checking his unbridled intentions and dropping his hand. "Why didn't you tell me?"

_"Excuse me?"_

His fingers clawed at the crumbling brickwork behind her. "You think this is fair, Granger?" he asked, a harsh edge to his tone – one that transported her back to their schooldays. "Keeping this from me?"

Red fury misted her vision and boiled her blood. She tried to shove him away again, but his strength solidly resisted her attempts, his torso brushing against her stomach. "How dare you!" she growled, her anger blotching her cheeks. "This has _never _been a secret. You were just too busy with your new wife for me to tell you! Do you think _that_was fair, Draco? You cheating on me and leaving me for her? Well, DO YOU?"

"I had no choice –"

"_No choice?_" she spat. "Everyone – including you – has a choice. You committing adultery and marrying Greengrass was all your doing. No one else had a say in that, Draco. It was all _you._"

Yes, the pair had been a couple. Quite a happy content one, actually, maybe not like the one's you saw in soppy romance films with lazy days in bed and hugs from behind, but special enough. It had been all well and good, until Draco fell into bed with Astoria Greengrass.

Hermione liked to think they'd worked well together. Well enough for her to have been thinking that they might've tied the knot or eloped someday, maybe even start a family, but that fantasy was torn to shreds. It still sometimes reduced her to tears, and even though she had a fresh start with Theo, whose contact with his old Slytherin pal had become a rarity since graduation, an ache caused by Draco spiked her chest.

It had blossomed into a relationship after he had asked her for several dates in the local coffee shop, and from there, it had taken its natural course. They'd moved in together, and had even spoken about the future, staying up late to talk about whether or not they did want to get married or have children. He, unlike Hermione had expected of him, seemed very keen on the topic, and not for the reason of producing a family heir.

Malfoy as a boyfriend had been shocking. He still had traits of the old Draco, arrogance, self-indulgence and just plain rudeness sometimes. But he'd aged, and at times a more kind, considerate Draco would peek through the cracks. For example, he'd grown out of his prejudice, brainwashed opinion of Muggle-borns, and to prove it had gone as far as to set up a petition to stop the ill-treatment and to protect their welfare. Some might have thought he was trying to gain a higher status, but that wasn't what was happening. Not at all.

And so she believed everything was going smoothly.

Until that day came.

She had glanced at the Daily Prophet and observed with wide-eyes as the photograph replayed Draco shoving his tongue down another woman's throat that was on a loop. His preference of skinny, large-bust women had caused bile to crawl up her throat. He hadn't done anything when she'd confronted him, hadn't even the slightest reaction when she'd thrown him out by the collar. Perhaps he knew as soon as she'd slapped the newspaper down in front of him that he'd lost her. She should've known he hadn't really loved her; he'd never uttered the words, but she'd hoped it was because he found it a challenge exposing his deep-rooted intimacies, rather than because he hadn't felt anything.

His arm dropped to his side, and she took the advantage of the situation and leave, she only managed one step before she heard him speak again, his voice oddly croaked. "I still want you, Granger."

"Oh, you do?" she laughed sarcastically, the spit in her mouth feeling like poison. "It's a little that for that."

Arm secured in his grip again, his face was closer than before, their noses nearly touching. "No, it isn't," he stubbornly countered; his voice sounded much more dangerous now that it was dropped low, almost a tad threatening. "Nothing between us has ever been _a little late_."

"It was when you said _I do_."

_Oh crap. _Tears were stinging the corners of her eyes, and crying was the last thing she wanted to do. She would not look like a pathetic, hopeless pregnant woman in front of him.

He shook his head, arm loosening a bit. "My marriage is a sham, it's empty. I don't love her – I never have – and she doesn't love me."

For a few heartbeats, she stared and blinked. Part of her wanted to believe him. On the other hand, he'd shattered her heart and had done nothing to even recapture the pieces. "Well, that's wonderful for you, Draco!" She glared daggers at him, but it had no affect, "but my relationship isn't! I won't have you destroy my life a second time." His hand tightened again. "I don't want you."

"Are you sure about that? Your responses say otherwise."

"I don't know what you're –" _Oh. _Those sort of responses. "I..."

She had to trail off as her enhanced hormones caused her to feel _every little touch. _His hand on the bare flesh of her arm kindled a stimulating flame, and sweat quickly gathered at her temples, a hunger stirring in her stomach that wasn't from her queer pregnancy cravings and a gush of wetness dampened her knickers. She licked at her lip as Draco smirked at the anxious, needy action.

After four months apart, he still managed to steal gasps from her and evoke these sensations and potent, intoxicating desires with a simple caress – though whether that was due to her lack of sex since learning she was with child, or because he really was an expert, she wasn't quite sure.

Slowly, his hand slackened and trailed down her body until it rested on her hip, grazing against her bump. She twitched, wisps of hair clinging to her clammy forehead. If this was going to end the way she thought, then she had to leave now.

"What was that, Granger? Is there something wrong?" He maintained his cocky arrogance, that bloody smirk twitching the corners of his mouth. "You don't look so good."

"I – I need to go."

Her attempt to push past was futile, and she would've smashed her face on the ground if he hadn't wrapped his arms around her as she stumbled. Hunched over, she peeked up through her lashes to await a smug remark, but one never came. He swallowed, and looked down between them, and then she saw it.

His hands flexed as they palmed her stomach and she should've batted them away. But she didn't. Feet cemented to the floor, she felt this strange connection between them. It wasn't like what they'd had before; this was completely the opposite, as in with stunned understanding they were going to be parents. Actual parents.

"Hermione..." he murmured, tilting his head down to seek her lips. "I need –"

Lips brushed against hers and a hand tangled in her hair, tugging her closer. She shook her head, placed her hands on his chest to push him away, but he was weakening. "Don't, Draco," she pled, thighs trembling, "please..."

But her over-active imagination shut off and her sexually-starved body screamed for more at the feel of his domineering lips hungrily crushed hers; the familiar taste of cool peppermint, mingled with a charmed scent of fresh, crisp rainforest breeze in early Autumn and his heady cologne perfuming the air caused an explosion of frenzied butterflies in her stomach. _Gods, I've missed this. _With a whimper, she gave in and fisted his jacket to sever any remaining distance between them.

As soon as she yielded to his persistent and coaxing mouth, his tongue thrust repeatedly between her parted, swollen lips and entwined with hers. She gripped his shoulders for purchase, solely to avoid her unbalanced weight knocking her over.

Besides all the others times she'd lip-locked with Draco, this kiss was possibly the best she'd ever received. Unlike the other two men she'd shared one with: ex-husband, Ron Weasley (which was a series of sloppy, rushed pecks as he fumbled to land her into bed – an unfortunate way to experience first intimacy) and now with Theo, (whose were much better as he'd focus on pleasing her and prompt her into warming arousal, but due to the unexpected child, sex was infrequent) With Draco, however, this infusion of passion and fierceness was embedded in his kisses and touches that melted her bones and whipped shudders up her spine.

His mouth traced a pattern of light nips and hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck, and through her muddled mind, she subconsciously picked up Draco's fingers circling carefully over the sides of her bump. She didn't stop him. All vows to refuse him any contact during her pregnancy had now been disregarded by this stifled need, and panting hard, her nerve-endings sparked as the intensity of her exhilaration bloomed.

"No one will know you as well as I do, Granger," he breathed against her ear. "And as you want this. You want me."

She tried to shake her head, but his kisses were too tempting. "_Draco_."

One of his hands left her side, and slid down her waist and leg until he reached the hem of her skirt, fingers teasing against her skin. And just like that, his move smashed through the barricade holding an erotic authority over her. She _shouldn't _want this.

And with a clear, crystallising moment, she realised this was the reality – that she had just performed the sin of disloyalty. To rely on the excuse of the lack of a sex life to fool around with other men was wrong and childish, quite honestly. No, it wasn't Draco who was to blame for this; his charm wasn't that compelling. All this was her fault. With a sexually-frustrated mind and overwhelming past emotions brought back, she'd put hers and Theo's relationship in jeopardy.

Would she keep this from Theo? It wouldn't be right if she did. But she should be used to this, as this wasn't the first time she'd ruined something good in her life. Her marriage had been based off lies mostly, so it wouldn't surprise her if this relationship took that path, also.

Which was why it would be best to stop now.

Breaking away, she straightened out her clothing, but it still appeared crumpled and the clips in her hair had moved, strands framing her face in messy, unkempt curls. "No, stop," she ordered, taking a step back as he made to seize her again. "I'm with Theo, Draco –"

"Who you don't love; a boyfriend you don't even want." His lips were red and swollen, shirt disheveled from her tearing hands. "This is Weaselbee all over again, isn't it, Granger?"

Yes, it was.

But digging up that memory would trigger heavy issues. He only knew of her failed marriage when she'd confided in him, which in hindsight had been a completely crazy idea, before they'd been together and it had been in the premature days of their reunion.

Strangely, he'd listened, but never said anything – not a little bit of advice or support, and she hadn't minded, as she wasn't one who liked to talk about her personal life, or have people advise her on it either. It seemed only now his judgement was glowering at her.

But that was who he was.

He wouldn't give sympathy to others; she didn't even believe he'd give condolences to the deceased – to some anyway, maybe he wasn't _that _heartless – but still. She guessed that, over the eleven months, he'd gathered material from their relationship that could be used against her, like just now and it was working, building up the insults and unearthing their history.

It wouldn't have made a difference if he'd gradually used that information against her, or had thrown it in her face; both methods cut wounds deep.

That was what her life was: a scar. With care, it would heal itself, but when unexpectedly caught, it could reopen, even get infected. And she could clean it, or bandage it back up, or the more likely... watch it bleed.

Ignoring his taunt, she shook her head. "You're married. Astoria –"

"She doesn't care about what I do outside our marriage. Are you not listening a word I'm saying?" She wasn't; she'd pretty much done that ever since knowing him. "She is exactly the same, Granger. I am her husband, but she has a playboy on the side that she fucks whenever she pleases. I don't care that she does, because I have _no _feelings towards her whatsoever. For all I know, she's with him right now, screwing him in my bed, but _I don't care!_"

"If you both have no feelings towards each other, then why are you married, Draco?" she nearly shouted, but she bit her tongue to avoid attracting attention. "Why the hell did you marry a woman you don't love? Shows just how much _fine _logic you have."

It hadn't meant to lead to this; a rising argument that, if continued, it was going to blow its top, and that would not be a very pretty sight. She should've left when she had all those chances, but _no, _she had to go and kiss him and just waste time.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "As I've said before, I had no choice in the matter –"

"Oh, don't start with that rubbish again! This – this was a mistake." She walked backwards, clutching her stomach. "I don't want to see you. I don't want you anywhere near me, understand?"

As usual, he changed his mood within a second; dropping his guards and pulling them back up just as quick. Even when she'd slowly peeled away the layers of him over time, she was yet to strip the last few, and now, his egotism was gone and with his brow wrinkled, he seemed almost concerned or... worried. He was staring at her belly again, as if he'd just figured, despite having pressed up against it when he was tearing apart her mouth.

His throat bobbed around a thick swallow, and an emotion tightened his expression, something akin to pain. "You're carrying my child." It was soft, nearly meaningful, like he... cared. "I'm that baby's father. My child – _our _child. As of when we conceived, I have legal rights to be a part of his or hers life."

"You might've when we were together, but you lost those rights when you left me and slept with another woman, whom you later married." She knew it was hypocritical, given she'd just cheated on Theo, but it wasn't going to happen again. It was a minor slip-up. "It's over, Draco."

It was extremely unfair, but with her emotions, hormones and memories blended into one, she found it was the only way to solve her problems. She'd done this kind of thing since the war.

"This was never over, Granger," he told her, and he reached up, fixing one of her curls in a pin; his touch lingered, feathering over her cheek before dropping at his side, eyes inexplicably gentle. "Before it was physically and publicly over, yes." He shook his head, hand brushing against her bump, "but not emotionally. Never emotionally." With that, he released her, and she staggered back against the wall. Deep down, she knew that was true, but she was confused as to what he meant by emotionally... did he still have feelings for her?

Abruptly, he walked away and disappeared around the corner, leaving her to tidy the knotted vines that their amorous entanglement had grown.

...

**Late July – Early August, 2004**

Draco had been right – it definitely wasn't over, as they'd kissed several more times over the course of two weeks.

She'd firmly withstood his temptation to take any things further besides the slight fondling, creating a distraction by saying she had dizziness or nausea which she rarely got nowadays. But she knew her lust wouldn't hold off for long, his attempts at seducing her difficult to escape from.

Their illicit rendezvous' took place in her library. When she was check-listing books in the storeroom, or on her break, he'd sneak in somehow, nonchalant that customers or staff could catch them – though, she made no move to stop him, casting a silencing charm and welcomed heated, impatient kisses peppered over her neck and mouth. At times where she _did _try to evade him by leaving work early, he always beat her aims to maneuver around him. And she surrendered, even if done against a wall in a deserted backstreet.

No words were said before or after, only during where he'd tell her how much he loved kissing her; it was all sexual, he'd never shower he with romantic whispers or anything more than a physical side. What had happened before was a hook and line moment, to rope her in. That was all it was, wasn't it? Use her as his beck-and-call girl, satisfying his appetite and need to humiliate her, and she was a pathetic fool to allow it.

A selfish bitch, who would then be left to clean her smeared lipstick and charm away the purpling bite-marks.

...

**Mid-August, 2004**

On a particular, sweltering day, fanning herself with a leaflet and shifting uncomfortably in her tight vest and white, frilled skirt that didn't keep her cool enough to stop beads of sweat dribbling down her spine, Hermione didn't dodge quick enough to escape him – again – and was thrown against the storeroom door, mouth ravished by the hardest kiss yet. Her shirt, which had ridden up, exposed little flesh that would most likely show stretch marks, and his hand curled around it; he'd grown accustomed to her pregnancy now, from the start of this whole, prohibited affair.

"Not now, Malfoy," she weakly protested, moaning against his lips as she clutched his t-shirt. "I... I have to label these –"

His hand had slipped under her clothing, fiddling with the top of her knickers. She sucked in a gasp through gritted teeth, as his fingertips soaked up the moisture on her skin. He cupped the back of her knee, fasting her leg around his waist. Her skirt was long enough to hide the disgraceful act from anyone's eyes, and she hoped it could change the fact that she was acting like some kind of tart.

It didn't.

Latched onto her neck, Draco pressed his hand against her covered crotch. "This is the perfect time, Granger." Voice rough and commanding, he ground against her leg, his erection hard, hot and straining. "You try and deny this, but it's meant to happen. Sooner or later, you're going to realise who matches you best, and it'll end up being me – like it always has."

He'd made her come that way, rubbing her over-sensitive nub furiously over the thin fabric of her knickers, and he'd swallowed her hoarse cry, as partly it was the most exquisite feeling of blissful waves over her body and because she was _mortified _that with little effort he'd made her experience such an orgasm after months of having to self-induce her own and fake it with Theo.

_Oh God, Theo._

Her boyfriend was oblivious to her scandalous liaison, and it was so unfair that she'd treat him this way.

After righting her clothes, and with a chaste peck to her lips, Draco left her. She didn't move for a while, cheeks boiled with shame and guilt, but the tears never came until she was safely tucked under the bed covers – Theo already asleep, snoring on his side of the bed – and hidden away in her cocoon of darkness.

...

**Late August, 2004**

The bell had rung upon an arrival just as Hermione swiped at the tears slithering down her cheeks; it was after hours, so – like he always did when she closed shop – he locked the door and wandlessly shut the blinds.

"Eight hours is too bloody long to wait for this." He shrugged off his coat and slung it over the counter, still unaware as he made a reach for her. "Wanting you shouldn't be this torturous –"

He stopped dead in his tracks when she muffled a sob that had forced its way past tightly compressed lips. He stiffened at her side when he saw her clutching an ultra-sound scan in her hand, finally noticing her unleash of emotions. Glancing up at him through her lashes with droplets trapped between them, she murmured, "Draco –"

"What's wrong?" He was panicked, sweat quickly gathering in his palms as he gripped her arm, and Hermione resisted the urge to gaze up at him in wonder at this limited side to him – this caring, anxious side was quite endearing, as it was only few times where he'd seem to notice their growing child, unlike when they were engaging in certain activity. Moments like this did sometimes cause her to look at him differently, awe-struck. "Are you okay? Is it the baby? Is the baby okay –"

And then she laughed. Head thrown back, the sound of her vibrant, natural laugher echoed along the shelves. Calming down, she saw him lick his lips – something she knew he did when aroused, and from his information, he found her neck attractive; his teeth would tingle and beg to sink themselves into the flesh and taste the pellets of salty sweat and vanilla fragrance that clung to her skin – but then again, it could be from nervousness.

Narrowing his eyes, he gripped her chin and levelled her face with his. "This isn't funny, Granger. Tell me what's wrong with the baby."

"There's nothing wrong with the baby. Everything's fine."

His eyebrows knitted together. "Then why were you crying?"

"Because I'm happy, you idiot!"

"How was I supposed to know that?" he exclaimed, scarcely missing her punch, and shoved a hand through her messy locks. "When you see a crying woman, you assume she's upset. You know, I can't keep up with your bloody mood swings! One minute you're randy, nearly ripping my dick off, and the next, you want to rip my head off instead."

Rolling her eyes, she crossed her arms. "_Sorry, _but I didn't get myself pregnant. You're partly to blame for my mood swings! But I apologise that my joy over finding out we've having a daughter annoys you."

His lips parted on a quiet gasp. "_What?_"

"Sort of goes against the pattern of Malfoy's only producing boys, doesn't it?"

"_A daughter._" he whispered to himself, hand rubbing his forehead. Pale, he braced himself against the counter, sucking in deep, steadying breaths. "Holy shit."

Was Draco really freaking out about this _now_? Guiding him into a chair, she crouched down next to him. "What's wrong? You seemed perfectly okay with the concept of me actually being pregnant. Why does having a girl change that?"

"Because at the time I was positive that it would be a boy... having a girl, that's – that's a completely different thing to deal with."

Usually, she might've been offended by that comment, but seeing Draco out of his comfort was quite amusing, as mean as it was. "You say it as though she's going to be horrible." She smiled. "Well, she will be half of you..." He looked up at her, glaring, so rushed out, "but that doesn't matter! You're scared now, Draco, but you'll think differently when she's born. This is a good thing."

There was barely enough time to squeak in surprised as he dragged her into his embrace, feeling his lips graze against her building pulse, as he smothered his face in the crook of her neck. It wasn't sexual, but fond, almost loving.

"_We're having a daughter,_" he repeated, tightening his hold on her.

It was surreal.

_She, _Hermione Granger was having a child with Draco Malfoy. Years ago she would've shuddered at the thought, and scoffed in the face of who'd ever imply such a thing, but now being more mature and wise when approached with it, she was okay. He'd changed, obviously, or she'd never have dated or slept with him in the first place.

And she was more willing to allow him involvement, as at the time where they'd bumped into each other at Diagon Alley, all pent up anger had returned – now, although there was still shame, guilt, and a piece of her that still couldn't forgive him, the anger was dispersing.

But she was so _confused. _He had bad mood swings just like her; one moment she'd think they were actually getting somewhere through this bizarre compromise and that maybe, just _maybe _he liked her. Then, there were other moments, where he'd drink his fill of her body, and act as though she was all she meant meant to him. It was backwards and forwards, like she'd known from their former days, but she knew why she allowed herself to be buried in this pit.

After all, she was in love with him, wasn't she?

Yes, of course she was, ever since the end of their first date. With his goodbye, he'd taken her hand and placed a soft kiss to her knuckles, and she'd _laughed _because it was so Malfoy, if not old-fashioned. He'd frowned at her, puzzled as to why she'd find his gentlemanly manners so funny.

That hadn't been the moment she fell for him, though.

It had been right after, where he'd burst into laughter with her, and it was... wonderful. It was the first time she'd seen him let go of himself, and the first where she hadn't seen the Draco from Hogwarts – the one who'd tormented her and caused misery – but the one that did still have a haughty attitude, but wanted to feel what it was like to have a good life.

From then on, she'd ignored these feelings and secreted them from anyone. And bottling them up had been working quite well for her until he just happened to stroll back into her life.

At this moment, she was destroying people's lives. Because this was one big lie; her marriage to Ron had been a sham, which had been her fault, and now was repeating that process with Theo, recognising the consequences that would follow, but she daren't tell anyone the truth out of fear of what they'd think of her.

_Coward._

The word reflected in her mind, and she agreed. She wanted to blame the war, draining her of all courage, but it was pitiful to even think so. Only she was responsible for her behaviour, for who she'd become.

This... thing with Draco was so morally wrong, but felt so _right._

...

Of all her friends, Harry was the one who could see right through her, like she was a clean sheet of glass, transparent and open.

Which was why her visit hadn't been all that fun, besides congratulating them on getting pregnant again. Immediately after the war, he had also made the bold, precipitous decision to propose to Ginny, to which she'd thrown herself into his inviting arms and screamed her acceptance. Just like she and Ron had, the only difference was that they were still as strong as their schooldays, married for several years with their first child and now waiting for the second.

It was truly wonderful news, and she'd given them a tight embrace and kiss on the cheek. She and Ginny had even sprouted the conversation of baby names, what the gender would be, and all the usual stuff that two women did over a celebration of new life. But once she'd bestowed her farewells and returned to the reality of her life, it only dragged her back to the fact she didn't have family. Not really.

Her parents would never know who she or their granddaughter were, as her attempt at the Obliviation counter-spell had backfired, and she'd permanently wiped the cherished memories of their true lives. She's deleted her only mum and dad with a charm she'd practiced and studied countless times. Such a tiny mistake that had resulted in losing the family she loved most.

Friends were moving on, expanding their family and getting hitched. It wasn't that she thought she'd lose them – just, less time would be spent together. The same with boyfriends; she didn't make much effort with Theo, nor did she with Ron, and focused all her attention on the one man who was forbidden. It was ridiculous how weak she'd become.

And it hurt. God, it hurt.

Forcing her problems aside and making her top priorities everyone else was both exhausting and agonising to do. She'd only learnt to consider others after she'd put herself first instead of Ron. Well, starting to learn, she hoped. It didn't look like she was much good a student in this area of subject of '_how to not be a selfish cow.'_

Like the saying went, "bad habits die hard". If that were true, then Hermione's were definitely immortal.

To make it all much, much worse, the topic of Ron had aroused and what he was doing with his life. Such as being on tour with his new Quidditch team... and with _her._

Ah, so her ex-husband had found paradise with his mistress; the same he'd fallen into bed with whilst he and Hermione were still spouses. It was fair and unfair. Part of her was happy that after driving him away, he'd finally found the one thing she hadn't been able to provide, and that he could now live to tell the tale.

The other side was envious, this jealousy quite vicious from the fact she didn't have any of that – not the settling down, or having a life. She was a stressed, pregnant woman whom was ecstatic that she was having a child, but also had a boyfriend she didn't love – yet more deja vu – and pined for the irresistible man that was married and probably had no romantic interest in her whatsoever. It was a nightmare, filled with a mangling of fears and phobias, and that this damaged, traumatising dream would be impossible to wake from.

Her face must've been picture perfect as Harry had quizzed what was wrong. She'd lied and said she felt unwell instead of spilling her problems in streams of confusion and distress. Being like a brother since they were eleven, he'd known she was lying but didn't question any further. _Thank God. _Another moment under his unnervingly examining stare and she would've broken out in a cold sweat that would've surely puddled on the floorboards and stained them.

He was aware to Draco being the father, as did Theo, but neither were aware that she'd bumped into him. They didn't know the real reasoning behind her and Ron's marriage – why it crumbled beneath their feet. Or how she was still in love with Draco. Or how, basically, she didn't know how to handle this. She'd vowed to not do anything she'd regret, but it was far too late for that, and she was deep in a pit, clawing at the walls and gets halfway before loosing her grip and ending up at the bottom again.

...

Light, damp kisses were pecked along her neck, as she was stretched with slow and leisured thrusts. It was nice – how much caution and thought he treated her with – but it didn't urge her closer to a peak, and she felt _guilty _for talking him into sex and having to forge an orgasm. She was aware of just how much he cared about his knowledge in bed, and she didn't want to bruise his ego.

_"Hermione," _Theo groaned roughly, hands clasped to her hips; he always refrained from touching her bump, either out of respect or that maybe he was disheartened by it. "Fuck, you feel so good."

Faking a soft moan, she let her mind drift, as this session would be over soon from his speed.

When she and Theo had met, just a few days after she and Draco had broken up, she'd jumped at the chance with him, regardless of how her conscience was telling her it would probably end badly. Her separation with Draco had been awful, and the lumps of her battered heart were still repairing, but sweet, caring Theo had offered her the warmth she'd lost and she… _needed _that, so she snatched it.

And with her pregnancy, well, he'd been very understanding of the situation and didn't seem to care. But that was as far as it went, nothing else.

He never connected with the baby – which she was quite glad – but she did wonder what would happen when her daughter was born. It was only four months until the birth, and she felt that everything would change; Theo would realise he didn't suit the lifestyle of nappies, and that would be that. Not that she'd protest. She really didn't think she could do this anymore, and that soon something would have to be done. The only problem was she didn't know what that would be just yet.

She was brought back to the present when another groan rumbled the air, "Oh, _shit. _I'm – I'm coming…"

Tightening his hands, he shuddered out his release until he was sated, sliding off and flopping down next to her. He hadn't seemed to notice she didn't even have time to fake her own release, and curled an arm around her waist before dropping off to sleep. She wished she could do the same.

One thing was for certain, though: the feel of Draco's burning touches and kisses remained imprinted on her skin.

**~.~**

* * *

Ok! First chapter over. Couple of things:

I understand that the characters are quite out of character, but I hope, as the next chapters are uploaded, what happens in the fanfic and what is shown, that it will make up for the fact that they are OOC and you will see why they are this way. Plus, you will predict things in this story. I didn't want to focus so much on surprising you guys with plot-twists, I'm saving that kind of thing for longer stories.

Also, please do not ask when updates happen, as I do not know – it depends on how busy I am. It could be up to an update each weeks, every two weeks, maybe even longer. But I will try my best. Thanks!

**Important note: **Someone just pointed out the timeline about Hermione jumping to Theo after breaking up with Draco. I apologise for the confusion, as orginally, I planned for Theo to be Hermione's fiancee, but then I _did _change it to just boyfriend & girlfriend - that was obviously on an old draft. I forgot to change it basically. SORRY!


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: **

Well, firstly I want to apologise for such the long wait. My laptop broke recently and had to be sent away for fixing. Other than that, I've been busy with my coursework and assignments, and now a competition that – if I'm brave enough – I'm going to enter. Plus, this chapter has really been grating on me. I've rewritten it countless times to get it to my preferred standard. So, again, I'm sorry.

Secondly, thank you to those who have favourited/alerted/reviewed this story, I love each and every one of you.

Lastly, my updates are part of a rota now, where I'll write a chapter for one fanfic, then the next chapter of a different one. So, there is no concrete time of when uploads will take place, as I like to complete one chapter before moving onto the next. Though, next will be Chapter 2 of **Mixing With A Malfoy, **which will be uploaded either before or after I've finished a few one-shots.

Thank you to **RoseWeasley3 **who beta'd this for me. I tried to edit myself, but I doubt I did a very good job. So if there are any mistakes, that's my fault.

* * *

_**CHAPTER TWO** _

* * *

.

**Early September, 2004 **

Out of all his many qualities, knowing the mechanics of sex was Draco's best.

A valued specimen, with his insanely intelligent mind, muscles, and admired Slytherin tongue, he'd learnt to harness a woman's pleasure – as well as his own – with no shortage of mistakes and learning curves along the way. Some of which he would and wouldn't want to return to; though, lately he'd extracted the memories of his best days and nights, desks and beds of the woman he'd had the delight of taking, and kept them hidden for a sneak viewing in the pensive.

Granger, however, was one unique affair.

God, yes, it had in their youth. As well as being rewarded with a second chance to have her all over again. To taste that sweet skin or hers, bite on her plump, moistened lips, and be sheathed inside her, (which unfortunately he hadn't been able to yet), but still, it was where he belonged. He was all for the shagging, but he'd also spend their time together just talking, as if they'd just met each other again for the first time; it was precious, and he knew he should confess this to her, but he couldn't. Not right now, anyway.

The countless times he'd wanted to tell her everything, take her hand and fly away together for the rest of their lives, only having to slice through that dream. His father was sniffing around him ever since his and Granger's first encounter, and he'd often bait Lucius on this, taunt him.

Shaking his head, he dismissed any negative thoughts and pecked Granger's forehead with a light kiss. If something were to happen, to Granger or his child, there would be hell to pay.

**~.~**

Amidst the stacks of outdated books and scrolls of ink-stained parchment, she and Draco lay in each other's arms, their legs outstretched along one another, as heated pants clashed between them, lips bruised by their hungry lips and teeth.

_That _had been a very different experience.

He had suggested a new technique to try which, if it hadn't sounded like an odd way to bring them both to pleasure, she may have welcomed it more, but with her raging pregnancy hormones – also with her plain, boring sex in general – she had dragged him into the library storeroom to test out this little idea of his. It had been very effective, in fact; he'd lain between her spread legs, both of them clothed, and ground against her, encouraging her to thrust upwards. The proof of her unrestrained enjoyment was the angry, red marks lining the milky flesh of his neck, as he'd pushed her over the edge several times.

At times, though, his touches would become softer, caring, particularly when he crossed her unattractive marks. Her stretchmarks, pink and thick across her stomach, she had expected him to be repulsed, but instead, he'd delicately traced them with his fingertips, dipping and stroking the indents, as if it was a sketch of beauty laid out in front of him. Little did he know, they weren't the only unattractive blemishes she was burdened with.

It was unbelievable – that a man who used to verbally abuse her in their schooldays who, whenever he could snatch up the chance, would stamp on her confidence until it was dust, was now, he was treating her so beautifully, like she was a Greek goddess, cautiously respecting the body he'd mocked before. Which, to be fair, he'd earned forgiveness for that, but it still surprised her after years of knowing each other, nonetheless. For Christ sake, in the two years that they dated, he never showed this side. He wasn't someone who would be considered romantic – or so she'd assumed.

Drifting back from her uninvited thoughts, she felt Draco's mouth against her neck, light, attentive nips on the responsive joining of her shoulder, and dipped his voice down into a low, seductive lure, "Never knew you were such an animal, Granger." He drew teasing circles on the revealed skin from where he'd dragged up her shirt. "And all this time you've had me fooled that you were Chief of all prudes."

Mortified and dazed, she attempted a glare, but failed. "I am _not _an animal."

He snickered knowingly. "If you say so."

"Shut it," she admonished, fighting the playful smile that tried to latch onto her mouth. "Never in my life, have I acted even remotely in an animal fashion. It will remain that way until you learn how to keep it in your pants, so not any time soon."

"Never in your life?" he repeated with a scoff. "Don't try and correct me, you'd jump me at any opportunity that arose. The night we spent on the balcony, for example, was completely _your _idea, if not a well-planned scheme to take advantage." Winking, he smirked. "You dismissed any circumstances, nor did you allow me the choice to object – I deserved freedom of speech, you know – and thus, I rest my case."

If it were possible, she burned an even brighter crimson to the roots of her hair. Of course she was familiar with that night; the memory of him flashed in her mind – of him bending her over the railings, giving her a second to suck in a stunned gasp before he'd shifted her underwear and plunged into her with hard, speedy thrusts that caused his hipbones to slap against her backside, leaving flaming, ripe cheeks.

Well, he had a strong point there...

His thumb skimmed over her flushed cheek, an affection he showed much more often now. Lips moved to her ear, and from where her bra had been pulled down from their hasty ministrations, his finger grazed over one of her dusky, puckered nipples, and he whispered gruffly, "And if I recall correctly, that was one of the hardest times you came. It was a magnificent sight, by the way, as it always is."

"Draco..." she barely managed, tingling all over. "Stop..."

"Can't handle my naughty words?" he teased, biting down gently on her lobe, causing a churn of molten, blistering flames in the pit of her gut, the rippling pulses beginning to pick up within her again. Humming in satisfaction, she turned her head to catch a searing kiss, tangling her tongue with his, consuming his sweet, luscious taste of strawberries and coffee. "Don't go all Miss Prim and Proper on me now, Granger."

She broke away, the buzz mellowing out. "As much as Prim and Proper as you are a prude."

A cheeky smirk appeared on his face. "Are you quite sure about that? You do work in a library, after all."

Good old Malfoy, always successfully ruining a good moment by opening his mouth, letting all needless comments tumble from that bloody silver-tongued mouth. She should've seen it before. He'd try to tame her by fulfilling her needs, in hope that if there was a slip-up, she'd be too intoxicated on a post-orgasmed high to give a damn. It would've worked in the past, where she'd be distracted by his thoroughly messed hair and rosy tinge to his cheeks; that was one thing she loved, as it was out of the ordinary for him – not the trim, neat look he normally perfected, but a viewing that only she had the privilege of seeing beneath the bed sheets.

She leant away from him, crossing her arms. "What's _that _supposed to mean?"

"Well, you're the brightest witch of our age, are you not?" he asked, shrugging. Great, it was going to be one of _those _conversations. She'd received the very same overused lecture from friends, even from strangers who had recognised her upon entering her shop. "You could have any job you wanted. The Ministry, for instance. I doubt they'd turn down your application for working in one of their departments, or you could go international – a lesser considered possibility, maybe, as I'd see less of you – but think of the countries you could visit. Don't take this the wrong way –"

"By saying that, I'm definitely going to take it the wrong way."

He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Just let me finish. What I mean is, you could have any kind of job, and you've chosen such a simple one."

Nostrils flaring slightly, she scowled, albeit a non-threatening one, given her current state. She closed her eyes and took a deep, measuring breath. "Look, Draco – it's _wonderful _that you work in a higher-paid job than me, and you managed to secure a place in your family's business –"_  
_

"That's not what I meant –"

"_Shut up,_" she sighed in return, rubbing her forehead in aid to rid the headache starting to form. "I've never been interested in working at The Ministry, or any other ridiculously ambitious firm." She patted her stomach, and smiled a little. "In case you haven't noticed, having known me for quite a while, I'm not really the adventurous type, nor do I have the time, strength or stamina to travel the world at this present moment. Perhaps in the future, if I truly wanted that experience, but by that point, I'd be an old woman living with a dozen cats."

A shimmer of amusement and fuelled passion danced in her eyes then, and she continued, her voice solemn. "For years – since I was a child – working here has been a dream of mine. I absolutely adore this job. To be surrounded by the smell of books, and being able to see adults, teenagers and children inspired from a story, just as much as I did... Well, it's pure magic."

"Yes, it might be a plain, average option for others." She shrugged and shook her head, a smile pulling at her lips again, though she swallowed thick at the remembrance of her childhood. "But for me it isn't. As a little girl, I was taught about so many principles, laws and responsibilities of life. The one I'll continue to tell myself, though, is to never let anyone else lay out your future for you. That's _your own _decision, and how you choose to live it."

What she'd expected was some sort of snide or clever comeback, but instead, his eyes distanced out a fraction, as if a sudden thought had just snuck into his mind; it didn't look like a very good one, from the crinkle that weighed his brow and a painful tightening on her waist.

This happened a lot lately – more than when they'd been a couple, strangely – and at times, although it was quite assuring to see what Draco was like when he dropped his defences, like this, it was worrying, as something could be terribly wrong with him. He was hiding something, too, that she hoped was the explanation for his odd switching of behaviour and attitude towards her. One day, he'd act like the Draco she'd fallen in love with, and then the next, he'd turn to the one that emotionally stripped her of being and soul.

He released a barely audible, shaky breath, and blinked several times, that invisible disguise shuttering back into place. "Has anyone tried to take control of your life choices?" he asked, piling more confusion onto her already befuddled brain. It seemed he noted her curious scrutiny, as he added teasingly, "Potter or Weasel haven't tried to fix you up with Auror duties, then?"

"Goodness no," she snorted softly, shaking her head. "They approached me with the idea, sure, but I made it crystal clear heading down that route was no intention of mine. I'd gone through enough running and chases during the war, and tracking down runaway criminals was something I'd have the great pleasure of avoiding."

"What about the teachers?"

Pursing her lips, she shook her head again. "They put minor influences on careers, like providing me with required criteria, or as far as giving me other alternatives in the particular area I wished to work in. Other than that, it was all down to me."

This was turning extremely odd – his change in demeanour, the heavy breathing on her neck – it was unsettling. Being this quizzical was something she was familiar with. He wasn't _that kind _of person, nor a Death-Eater that some people still believed. She knew he never truly was one when she heard about the bathroom incident with Harry in sixth year, found reduced to tears under the terrifying risk of his position. At the feat of the battle, despite having escaped, the Malfoy family had been caught and arrested... in the end, thankfully, Draco had been cleared all charges by the Wizengamot. His father, sent to Azkaban to serve a minimal sentence, now freed back into the Wizarding World. It was his mother, that had suffered the most; admitted to St Mungo's for a mental disorder, only to sadly pass on a year later.

She knew part of the change in Draco was because of his mother's death. Being the first to hear the news, he'd locked himself away for months, barely eating or sleeping. At the time, she and Draco had been civil to each other, before he'd tried to pursue her, and so she'd gone to his flat to express her sincere sympathies on his loss.

What she'd found was utterly devastating. And the first and only time she'd seen his guards not dropped, but smashed to a hundred, tiny pieces.

He hadn't done anything rash, or voiced his emotions through demolishing the house; he hadn't even shed a tear – not in her company. Instead, he'd just sat on the sofa with his elbows resting on his knees as he distantly stared into space. Oblivious, he hadn't shown any sign of acknowledgement as she sat down next to him, not even when she tentatively placed a trembling hand on his arm. Yet, once she'd spent almost two hours in the strain of silence, she'd eventually snapped him out the hypnotic state, and reached in to her lost friend, understanding his pain unlike anyone else who failed to even try.

It must've hit him hard. Defeated into this ghost of a man after probably wringing himself dry of tears, screams and absolute emotional trauma. From what she'd heard and managed to ease out from him, he had been close to his mother. When he was a child, she was a well-grounded, nurturing mother, who would be strict, but set a healthier example than his father had. What with his idea as a role model was to be superior to all others, but respect your elders. His mother, on the other hand, educated him on the aspects of a conscience, and he thanked her for that.

As time slowly passed, and with Hermione's help, he'd achieved stepping out into the open again. For every anniversary, he'd visit her grave, conjuring up a ring of Cosmos – her favourite flower that she'd grown in the gardens of Malfoy Manor – and place them around her gravestone before pressing a lingering kiss to the cold stone. She believed that maybe, deep down inside, there was a part of him that was happy. She was free of pain and misery.

Her heart had collapsed in on itself when, after spilling out a worrying amount of secrets, he'd choked on a single word, divulging more of his personal, unknown emotions in the pained whisper, _"I'm alone." _

She'd gathered him into her arms, proclaiming that he was no such thing, and she was there for him. It triggered an familiarity between them, as they'd both lost their parents, only in different ways.

"And... your parents?" he asked in a foreign voice, as if he'd heard her thoughts. The mention of family clenched her heart, but she forced it back.

"The mindset was keyed into me at an early age," she continued, pushing away the distracting thoughts. "So whenever somebody attempted to interrupt my plans, I'd know the answer would be, by all means a solid no. Most has only been trivial guidance's, but it didn't go to the extremes of force." She squeezed the nape of his neck, concern lacing her tone, and pressed on, "Is there something you're not telling me, Draco?"

As if electrocuted, he flinched. "No, no," he said a little too quickly, clearing his throat awkwardly. "I was just intrigued, is all."

_If only I could believe that._

**~.~ **

"Cosying up to Miss Granger, are we, Draco?"

If he hadn't had a firm grip on his chess piece, it would've clattered to the marbled floor. How was that possible? Well, actually, he was bloody Lucius Malfoy and it wouldn't be all that difficult to form tactics or hire spies to track his every move.

Cloaking a façade over himself, he leant back and crossed his ankles, shrugging, "I wouldn't call it 'cozying up to her' per se, Father, more… catching up."

The elder Malfoy made his next move and then mirrored his posture. "Ah, yes," he hummed, a cold, nasty smirk curling his thin lips. "I forgot – when one runs into an old friend, you drag them into an alleyway to catch up on… _old times_. Isn't that right? I couldn't _possibly_ think of what your intentions were when you got your privacy."

Draco didn't know why his father was trying to bait him, as if this would frighten him. In the past, it might've when he'd been under stress and pressure of forcing to be part of Voldemort's inner-circle, and obeying his families – besides his mother – beliefs of blood purity and against the dirty scum that were Muggles and Muggle-borns. At a young age, he'd followed those rules, as he just believed it priority, but as he matured and had watched years of innocent parents, children and elderly people suffer torture and death, the morals inner voice that had been locked away in his mind finally broke free. Unfortunately, even with the ongoing war now over, he believed Lucius had been mildly brainwashed and was still under a slight influence of the deceased Dark Lord's blood perspectives.

Which was why he'd arranged Draco and Astoria's marriage.

Lucius' pureblood-fanaticized views meant whom Draco married was determined by his father's high-rated and excessive standards. Not too difficult to arrange. With his many contacts and short floo-call, the list of applicable clients would be sent through, excluding Draco and denying him any say on the matter. It wasn't a choice. It was somewhat a market; sometimes other families would actually influence the decision of their children's fates with bribes, whether that was with illegal items from a dark magic trade, or double-figures worth of galleons. His father demanded an heir, to banish any taint of disgrace to the Malfoy line that, in his opinion, his son had already caused.

The only problem at the time was that Granger had been in the way. An effortless challenge, however, as all Lucius had needed was tea laced with a strong lust potion and a camera to capture the moment where Draco had been uncontrollable and had passionately kissed Astoria. Hours later, it had been the front page of The Daily Prophet, the very same his now ex-girlfriend had been unlucky enough to see.

And then the one relationship he'd liked had finished, followed by being shoved into a loveless, miserable wedlock barely a month later.

"You say 'intentions' as if I was hoping something to happen," Draco scoffed, moving his next chess piece. "I assure you, father, what I got didn't need hope."

His lips faltered in response before dropping completely, and he released a thundering growl, jabbing a finger at Draco. "Now you listen, Draco, and listen well: from now, you are to go _nowhere near _that filthy Mudblood. I will not have you contaminate the Malfoy line. For centuries there has always been purebloods, and I won't have some insolent, stupid fool like you change it!" _Go fuck yourself, you old git._ "You underestimate me, boy. It would be such a shame for something to happen to darling Miss Granger and that disgusting half-blood of hers."

White-knuckled hands clenched around the armchair, Draco spat, "Don't you dare threaten –"

"I will do what I please if it means necessary." He got up then, moving his last chess piece, just happening to claim checkmate. Smirking, he waltzed off, voice resounding around the room. "It appears you've lost again, son. Such a pity."

**~.~**

Oh, shit.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

With sweaty hands, Draco straightened out the Daily Prophet. Oh, double fuck.

His father had really done it this time. He hadn't expected him to go this far. They'd agreed to keep this a secret until it had actually happened – something he tried to avoid as much as possible – but as it seemed, the elder Malfoy hadn't stayed at his end of the bargain. Re-reading the paper, he groaned, pounding his fist on the table several times until his knuckles throbbed.

**DRACO AND ASTORIA MALFOY TRY FOR HEIR **

How the hell was he going to explain this to her?

**~.~ **

His hand slapped against the door before she could slam it in his face. "Look," he rushed out, "just give me a chance to explain –"

"Nothing needs explaining," she bit out, teeth gritted. "It's pretty self-explanatory!"

Thinking he might've changed was the stupidest thing she'd ever done; he'd shattered any trust she might have gained towards him, simply by not having the common decency to tell her something this important. Again, she had to find out through the bloody exploitations on the newspapers.

This anger she felt... well, she wasn't quite sure why she had it, to be honest.

She should've expected a married couple to have sex and try for a family, but at the same time, he'd told her he didn't love Greengrass. Which one of them was just a fuck he needed to quench the desires that the other could not satisfy? If so, he really was an impatient, selfish man that couldn't wait just a little longer for the woman he supposedly still wanted. She was just as bad, though, breaking the laws of fidelity behind Theo's back.

Now reaching heavy pregnancy and tiredness, her arms buckled out, allowing Draco to step in and kick the door shut. Crossing her arms, she narrowed her eyes. "You're trespassing you know, so you're a threat to my home. Whatever I do next will be justified as self-defense."

"Really?" he growled, advancing on her too quickly for her to dodge. "Do you want to test that little idea of yours? If you land yourself in hospital from your irrational decisions I'll be sure to take a photo and display it in a scrapbook for our daughter. Show her just how much of an idiot you were sometimes."

Barking a laugh, she shook her head, and _accio'd _today's articale, smacking it against his chest. "Don't forget this, _darling – _show her how much of a _fucking liar you are!_"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he inhaled sharply, as if he had not the faintest idea how much pain he caused her. He'd merge all her emotions together and slap them across her face, leaving a hollow emptiness in her chest. "I am _not _lying, Granger." Fuming, he backed her against the wall, arms boxing her in. "You never knew about this, and you never asked until now. If you _had _asked, instead of jumping down my throat, I would've told you the truth."

The heat of his body muddled her brain, but held onto her strength.

"Besides, I have never lied to you. In all the time that I've known you, not once have I been unfaithful."

_What? _

"Are – are you being serious?" she nearly screeched, red blocking her visions. Her hands started to quiver. "_You have been unfaithful to me Draco Lucius Malfoy! _Does being printed on the front page _fondling _Greengrass ring any bells in that thick skull of yours? I can't believe you, to – to have the nerve –"

_"Enough!" _

She ceased talking, but her eyes burned with fury. "Excuse me?"

"I am sick and tired of us fighting over the same issue over and over again. I've told you before, and I'll tell you again – what happened between me and Greengrass wasn't what you think it was." Something in his eyes was trying to break through, but he held it back. "I – I wasn't thinking straight that day."

"What you've read today, that _is _true," he continued, closing his eyes briefly. "I don't want it to be, though. Everyday is a nightmare, because Astoria could tell me she's pregnant. The day that she does... I have no idea what I'm going to do. Yes, we have sex, but only for sake of conceiving. This "heir" thing is compulsory."

Although breathing heavily, she'd cooled down. "Why do you _have _to?"

"It's just the way things work in my family."

So, it was a chore, or an order of some sort. She'd had suspicions of this since the day in the alley. Part of her wanted to believe him, the other shoved her back. The atmosphere between them had become less static and cold, more defeated. His shoulders were slumped and his eyes locked onto hers, searching, and then he sighed, "I'm fed up with this, Granger."

She huffed a laugh. "Oh, _you're _fed up?"

A need for help and support swarmed him, something he'd only felt a number of times – all towards Granger – as she was the only one he trusted, for sure. Some of his closest friends he wouldn't put in his confidence with the information he so desperately wanted to pour out.

Two seconds ago, they were at each other's throats, but he figure if he didn't say anything now, he may never get the opportunity again. It was a huge risk, but life was about taking risks, weren't they? He never took many of those, either, being the coward that he was.

"Yes, I am fed up – with everything." The words tumbled from his mouth before he could turn back. "Fed up with who I am. All my life, I've been a condescending tosser, making other people's lives a misery. I'm fed up with pretending I don't care, when I do. I'm fed up with acting like a bastard towards you. I'm fed up with reaching out to you, but then shoving you away. I'm fed up with fucking up every good thing in my life."

He stopped to inhale a weak breath, his face lost and twisted in pain as he ripped at his hair with harsh hands. "I am... _fed up _with trying to hide behind a broken disguise. There is no one else to blame – only myself." His eyes were completely exposed. "Mostly... I'm _scared. _I'm scared of chasing you away again. Scared of losing you, Hermione."

Tears stung the corner of her eyes. He'd never been this honest with her, and it was so overwhelming as he released it now. "Draco..."

"I'm hanging off a cliff. I'm crying for help, but no one can hear me. When someone does finally hear and offers me a hand, I refuse, because the risk of slipping is too great." He scrunched up his eyes for a moment. "And so I try to hold on, but I'm not strong enough. Sooner or later... I'll go unanswered. I'll grow tired. I'll let go. And... I'll fall."

He was... broken. Utterly broken. She hadn't noticed before, well, she had, just hadn't investigated that far as she'd been so indulged in her own troubles. It was so unfair, to have treated him this way. Yes, he'd cheated on her, and he didn't have a good excuse, but she needed to drop that thought. It was painful to witness him trying to repair himself.

It probably wasn't the right time to do it – given this could be an act, but it was a bloody believable one – but it was the only thing she could think of doing. With attentive steps, and with little room they had between them from her protruding stomach, she laced her arms around his neck, pressing a soft kiss into the joining of his neck. The only hugs or cuddles they'd shared had been brief and for the purpose of relaxation or heat of moment, but this was different. Extremely.

His hands made light strokes across the sides of her belly, as she rubbed his back in soothing circles. Out of all their hugs, this was the most honest, unprotected. Softer and meaningful, Hermione felt he was opening up to her, albeit all at once, but it was enough for her to understand him that little bit more, after all those chances she'd missed. And lately, this was happening frequently, and she hoped that it continued; that maybe, just maybe this meant more than she thought.

Their affection was cut short as a sudden ripple in her stomach caused them to jolt away from each other.

"Was that...?"

Hushing him, she grabbed his hands and pressed them against her bump, just as another ripple hit. "That was the first time," she whispered, smiling through a watery gaze as she looked up at him. "_Oh my god, Draco..." _

There was a slight furrow in his brow, as he looked intently at her. Leaving his hands on her stomach, she reached up and traced the sharp angles of his cheeks and jaw. "Er, Granger –"

"Don't say anything," she interrupted softly. "Not one word."

Tilting his head down, and smiling encouragingly, she leant up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips, holding it there, waiting to see if he'd respond to this... novel sensation between them. It took a whole ten seconds before he submitted to the gentle exchange; all the rough and feverish tearing of each other's lips was gone, replaced with this lovely, tender bond that, in hindsight, Hermione didn't think they'd ever shared in their relations.

She was sure now – in this exact minute, the thought of taking it all the way with him wasn't as daunting anymore; forget the traditions she'd set herself, and succumb under his sweet lips, and melt under his caresses. As they parted, she swallowed, his breath ghosting over her lips. "Take me to bed."

And he did.

**~.~ **

* * *

I'm so sorry I had to leave it there! I promise you the next chapter will be smut-filled, but lately I've just been wrung dry of writing and everything I _do _write comes out the same, which bugs me. I'll keep on writing, but I don't know when the next chapter will be up.


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